


An Apple a Day

by AbominableToast



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Drabble-ish?, F/M, Fawkes ships them, Fluff, OC, Side Quests, arcanist!reader, arcanist!warrior of light, based off a side quest, but longer than an actual drabble?, female!WoL - Freeform, like a super side quest, lol what an awkward tag, obviously, order of the twin adder!Fawkes' son, order of the twin adder!OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-04 11:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11554710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbominableToast/pseuds/AbominableToast
Summary: Based off the level 26 side quest "An Apple a Day", responding to Fawkes' suggestion to marry his son and take over the farm after the WoL's adventuring days are over aka "I thought it was a super cute thing for him to say and proceeded to gush over a side quest NPC's son and so this was born".





	An Apple a Day

Everyone had heard of [F/N] [L/N], the famous adventurer who had defeated the primal Ifrit, garnered the attentions of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, had all three Grand Companies falling over themselves to have her in their ranks and yet...still had the time to help a simple Hyurian farmer pick apples.

At least that's what his father had told him.

He was singing her praises, he was, and he had sarcastically told his father that he should drop farming and take up following her around as her bard instead. That had earned him a slap upside the head for 'backtalkin' your da' and a gruffly fond smile.

It wasn't often he was home, but when he was, he enjoyed it—not that he'd ever tell his tough, gruff da that for risk of sounding overly sentimental.

"I told her that once she was done with her adventuring, that she should settle down, farm the land. 'S a new adventure, innit? Just like you're going to take over this land once you're done with—what d'you call it? Protect and serve?"

He rolled his eyes, and gave a sigh. It was this same old thing every single time, with the settling down and farming his father's father's father's land. It's not that he didn't want to or that he didn't have pride in his humble farming roots but it was not the time to rest, not when the Garleans were plotting who knew what and primals were popping up to wreak havoc on innocent people's lives. [F/N] [L/N] was only one person and had already done so much—he could only endeavor to help in some way, in any way.

He rested his back against the sturdy trunk of the apple tree, clad in his simple undershirt, having hung his Twin Adder-yellow overcoat neatly on a nearby branch, hat sitting neatly by his side.

"In a nutshell, yes." He replied, sending his father a slightly exasperated smile. "It'll be a while yet, my taking over. Who knows how long it'll take."

"I see, I see. Yes, 's to be expected." His father sat down beside him, and the younger Hyurian sent him a curious look; the farmer seemed almost a little too accepting—all other times, he had put up a bit more of a fight. "S'pose it'll take some time. And it's not even the fightin' that'll be hard—even afterwards, I reckon it'll be a challenge settlin' down. With a nice homestead, stable crops, a wife..."

He felt about ready to slap his forehead and groan as if he were a teen once more. " _Da!_ Is that what you're trying to get at? A _wife_?! I've no time for romancing, least of all marriage!"

"Now, now, I know what you're gettin' at! You're a busy snake captain—"

"Serpent sergeant, da. Not snake captain."

"Right, right, that's what I meant. What I'm tryin' to say is that I get it—now, don't look at me like that! I do! You're busy with your protectin' and your servin' and you don't have time for a silly maiden hanging on your arm!"

Albion paused, mightily suspicious of his father's sudden understanding. "Oh, really?"

Fawkes grinned. "Of course! A simple country girl would just drag you down!" He nudged his son with a jabby elbow, grin turned shit-eating. "But if she were the adventurin' type, I'm sure it'd be _much_ easier."

Albion stared in bewilderment, positive that his father had finally lost his mind. "Are you telling me I should marry an adventurer? _You?_ "

"Aye, but not any adventurer!"

"I don't understand. You don't _actually_ have one in mind?"

" _Actually_ , my boy, I do."

"I've suddenly got a sinking feeling." The young man murmured in a tired voice.

The farmer slapped his son heartily on the back, sending him jerking forwards at the force. "Haven't you any faith in your old da, Alby-boy? I may not seem like it but I'm as good a matchmaker as any old biddy in the East Shroud!"

He sent his father an exasperated look. "And that's owing to your excellent taste in women, I suppose?" He remarked dryly, leaning back into the tree, pretending that his back wasn't throbbing. "Do you remember Aoife? Or maybe Deidra? Oh, I'm sure you remember the ungodsly mess that was Harriet—she still gives me dirty looks whenever she sees me around Old Gridania."

"Bah! I knew she wasn't the right one for you! Call it a lapse in judgement.

"A _severe_ one—we were six years old, da."

"Six is as good an age to find someone to settle down with later in life! The sooner the better!"

Albion groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Oh, gods." He grumbled. "You can see why I don't exactly trust your matchmaking skills, I'm sure?"

Fawkes tutted, waggling his finger at his son. "Maybe with them ordinary country girls! But, this adventurer—she's anything but ordinary, lemme tell you!"

"Da, I don't want—"

"Just trust me on this one! If you don't approve of her, I swear I'll stop tryin' to match you up!"

This gave the young sergeant pause. "You will?"

The older man out his hand on his heart. "I will! But I'm confident about 'er! And y'know if nothin', I'm at least an excellent judge o' character!"

Albion pursed his lips in thought as he tossed the idea around his head. He honestly wasn't looking forward to another spectacle of a girl fluttering her eyelashes at him, or pouring over how 'strong and dashing' he was. And he definitely wasn't keen on the idea of whatever awkward maneuvering he had to do when he finally rejected any offers of marriage—he'd rather fight off an entire horde of rabid ziz gorlins in a dancing girl's outfit than have to go through that again. But if it meant _never_ having to do it _ever_ again then maybe...

He looked his hopeful father in the eyes with a defeated look. "Alright, da. I'll do it. But this is the last time." He put a hand up before his father could speak. " _And_ if I don't like her, then you'll stop pestering me about the farm. Deal?"

Fawkes seemed to think for a moment before finally nodding. "It's a deal."

The young Midlander sighed and slumped heavily against the tree. "Well? When am I to see her?"

"She's due to come by later this week. Has some dealings with the Sylphs 'n the like and said she could come by for a bit." The farmer looked ready to jump for joy. "Oh, my boy, you won't regret it!"

Albion smiled tiredly. "Probably will, but let's just get it over with, aye?"

**\---**

He was in the midst of planting a new apple tree at the far end of the orchard when he heard the unmistakable sound of vilekin buzzing around. Throwing his shovel down, he picked up his lance propped up against a nearby tree and made towards the sound. A buzzing vilekin meant an agitated, aggressive vilekin and usually, the vermin were only agitated when someone was picking apples.

So, unfortunately for him, that most likely meant there was an apple thief in his midst. With an angry scowl, he began weaving through the trees towards the sound, the familiar weight of his lance heavy in his hands.

Rounding an especially large apple tree, he saw the enraged buzzing body of a large boring weevil attacking what looked to be a...carbuncle?

Momentarily puzzled, he peered past it—and, promptly froze.

Standing there, hair and magic swirling around her, was the loveliest girl he had ever had the pleasure of setting eyes on. In her hands was a giant tome—how she could hold it so steadily in one hand was beyond him—and she recited something beneath her breath, before sharp, sparkling lights flashed forward and hit the weevil, sending it hurtling back only to be pounced and pawed at by the carbuncle, its tails whipping about like a cat in play.

She began murmuring another incantation when her gaze shifted momentarily, only to meet his eyes.

His breath caught in his throat, and his lance went slack in his hands, as he stared into wonderfully deep eyes. Said eyes widened, looking caught off guard, and her lips ceased their silent chanting.

It was enough for the weevil to find its opening.

The vilekin threw the carbuncle off and went hurtling towards her with a furious buzz and she immediately turned to it, but it was too late to cast another spell.

Before he knew it, his body was lurching forward and he knocked it away with the blunt of his blade, now standing at guard in front of her, shoulders squared and stance rigid despite his lack of armor. "Are you alright?" He asked without looking back, both to keep his eyes on the recovering weevil and to keep from outright goggling her like a dunce.

He heard her shift from behind him before a warm voice that had him going rigid replied. "I'm fine. Thank you."

He was glad he wasn't facing her because his face was on fire and he had to blink furiously to keep his eyes from straying. "I'm glad." He managed to choke out in a less than steady voice, and he tried desperately to focus but his usual level-headedness didn’t seem to be making any appearances. “Allow me to help.”

The carbuncle turned and seemed to give him as smug a look as a magical fox could give and he gulped, hoping it wasn’t an extension of her in any way. “If you don’t mind.” He heard her say and that was all he needed to hear before he was jumping forward and stabbing at the weevil, the crunch of blade piercing hard exoskeleton mixing with the ringing of whatever spell she had cast. It was easy enough to fall into partnership: him with his speed and strength and she with her sparkling magic. It wasn’t long before the weevil gave its last dying shriek before lying still on the grass.

He stood there, letting the hilt of his lance rest against the ground as he pretended to peruse the corpse, but it was only really to keep him from ogling her again. “Ah, little buggers’ seem to be getting stronger.” He murmured.

“Seems like it.” He nearly jumped as an arm brushed against his and he looked out of pure reflex. Warmth instantly filled his chest as she gazed at him with those lovely eyes, soft little smile playing on her equally as soft-looking lips. “Thank you by the way. You fight very well.”

That warmth quickly found its way onto his cheeks and he smiled. “Ah, yes, well, ‘tis nothing but reflex. I’ve taken care of vilekin in the orchards since I was a child.”

Her eyes lit up like the stars of Bole and his cheeks burned even more. “Have you? You know Fawkes then?”

“Know him? Well, actually, he’s my—“

“Albion! I thought I heard fighting and—oh!” They both looked up to see Fawkes himself rushing up the small hill to where they were, pitchfork out and ready to stick someone, but he stopped once he saw them.

Albion was sure that the growing smirk on his father’s face did not bode well for him.

The farmer ambled towards them. “What’s goin’ on here?”

The mystery woman smiled over at him, and an uncomfortable sort of twisting settled itself in the young serpent sergeant’s stomach at it. “A weevil, sir. I was picking apples and it jumped out at me. I was fighting it and got distracted. Luckily, this kind man helped me.”

If possible, his father’s smirk grew even smugger and all Albion wanted to do was bury his face in his hands and groan. “Oh, did he? Kind, indeed. Though, it warms my heart that you’ve already taken to some of the responsibilities, lass.”

This was enough to stir him from his embarrassment. “What?”

“Though you came a bit earlier than I anticipated!”

“Da, what are you—“

“Bah, can’t be helped. Well, at least I don’t have to go through the pains of finding ‘im.”

“What do you—“

"Did you kill that weevil  _together_ ? Oh, it almost brings tears to my eyes!"

He was beginning to grow annoyed at the constant interruptions. “Da, what _are_ you going on about?!”

The mischievous look in his father’s eyes was enough to send his heart plummeting into his stomach. “Sorry, son. Let me formally introduce you two.” He grasped his son’s shoulder firmly. “This is Albion, my son and heir to the farm. He’s also a first-rate snake captain with the Order.” Said snake captain groaned. “Da, we’ve gone over this…” But his grumble was promptly ignored by his father.

“And, Albion, this is the adventurer I was telling you about.” All thoughts of incorrect titles and interruptions immediately dissipated as his shocked gaze darted to the beautiful arcanist standing before him. She smiled; he gaped. But it was his father’s following words that had his eyes popping out of his skull.

“This is [F/N] [L/N]. I think you’ve probably heard of her. She’s a bit of a local celebrity, I suppose.”

She rolled her eyes at Fawkes’ words and laughed softly before inclining her head with a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Albion.” He shuddered at how his name sounded falling from her lips, from someone so enchanting, someone so _admirable_. She was the one he had only heard stories of from others, had only respected from afar, someone he had held in such high esteem—someone he could now put a face to.

And he didn’t object to it in the slightest—it was a _very_ lovely face.

“…The pleasure’s entirely mine, I assure you.” He replied breathlessly, and he could hear his father sniggering from behind him. [F/N] only smiled, a sort of quirk to it, and he already knew he was completely lost to that smile.

They both seemed to be completely oblivious to Fawkes’ conniving grin until he cleared his throat. “Well, why don’t we go down to the house? I’m sure [F/N]’s thirsty from all her hard work—thanks for picking the apples, by the way, lass. Any longer ‘n they would’ve fallen right off.” She smiled and shrugged. “It’s no problem. I actually find it kind of therapeutic.”

“A woman after my own heart, y’are! She’s perfect, don’t you think, Alby?”

He flushed but couldn’t say otherwise and his father only grinned. “Let’s get goin’ then!’

He puttered ahead, leaving the two to stroll after him side by side. There was a silence between them before it was broken by a soft sigh; Albion glanced at the adventurer with some concern. “Are you alright? You aren’t hurt, are you?” She hummed and stretched her arms upwards, making the bottom of her tunic rise to show a sliver of soft skin; he flushed horribly and looked upwards to keep from staring. She sighed pleasantly, making his blush all the more horrible. “I’m not hurt—the opposite actually. Mmm, it really is very peaceful out here, isn’t it?” She breathed in the crisp forest air. “I always try and come out here as much as I can, I like it so much.”

“Do you?” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so tight. “Have you…considered living out here? I’ve heard the Lavender Beds are ideal housing.”

She hummed again, and he couldn’t help but think that he wouldn’t mind hearing her humming in the early morning, or in the late evening, or to a child with eyes as clear as hers—he tripped over a root and stumbled— his eyes were so glazed over in thought. She only giggled though, and put a steadying hand to his forearm, the skin where she touched him tingling and warm. “Careful there, snake captain.” His cheeks burned pleasantly at her playful quip, and he couldn’t help but smile. After he was righted, she replied. “It’s not that I haven’t thought about it. I’ve actually visited a few times, and it’s beautiful. But…I suppose I want something more than a place full of adventurers. It would be lonely, I think, and inauthentic. I would much rather live farther out in Gridania. Maybe the North Shroud. Or, here.” His heart leapt into his throat at her pensive words and imagined her living here: helping the Sylphs, riding down the path on her chocobo, picking apples, sitting amidst the wildflowers with her magic swirling around her like pure light.

“I think you would be happy here. Everyone would be glad to have you.” She looked at him curiously, and he flushed. “That is, after your adventuring. You’re very important to all of Eorzea, after all.”

She blinked before smiling, a warm bright smile that gripped at something in his chest. “Thank you, Albion. I think I _would_ be happy here.” She paused and he was so dazzled, he didn’t remark. But she gazed at him with eyes so clear and bright, he couldn’t do anything but gaze back. “But until then, would you mind it if I just stop by from time to time, to help out? I wasn’t lying—I do like working on your father’s farm.”

His breath caught in his throat at her expectant eyes and he was torn between laughing and choking. “I think…that can be arranged.” She beamed then and he smiled back, hardly keeping the pure adoration from saturating it.

\---

They continued down the path, falling farther and farther behind Fawkes until there was no one but them on the dirt path. The farmer in question returned home with a great wide grin and an accomplished look in his eye, leaning against the doorway and chuckling. His gaze ventured to a well-loved portrait hanging above the fireplace and his grin softened.

“Looks like he may give us grandchildren after all, hm?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of making a small series involving side quest NPC's/WoL!reader--let me know what you guys think!


End file.
